Star Crossed Lovers
by Uncle Charlie
Summary: Someone is in love with Napoleon. Written for Taming the Muse.


I'm so thirsty. Water doesn't work anymore, for it is my soul that is parched and without relief.

Can you remember the moment when you fell totally and completely in love? I'm not referring to a fickle crush or flight of fancy. I am speaking of the heart-stopping moment when you realize you have met your soul mate.

It happened in Mr. Waverly's office. I was sitting at the round conference table, much as I'd done the day before. Then he entered, I turned and it hit me. I'd use the phrase a ton of bricks, but it is sadly over used and honestly not enough. It was as if I was seeing him for the first time. I'd been thirsty for so long and then the sweet taste of love cascaded over me and I drank deeply.

The twinkle of his eye, the way the corners of his mouth played with a smile, even the way he smelled captivated me. He walked past and his scent enveloped me. It wasn't sickly sweet or overly spicy. It was clean, crisp, so much like the man himself. I swam in the scent and let it moisten my skin.

I started wondering what it would be like to be with him. Would he be a careful and compassionate lover or would he be an animal? I shivered at the thought.

I can't remember much of the conversation that followed. I was busy drowning in my newly-discovered love for Napoleon.

Looking back, the mission could have gone better. There were times when he came so close to injury, mostly due to that idiot Waverly insisted tag along. We had to go back and rescue him – twice. It would seem that if he'd been so dumb as to get caught twice, we should have let THRUSH keep him. Still, we were successful, the bad guys were caught and we rode home atop our white steeds, triumphant. I was flush with the feeling of having fought the good fight.

And then I watched him walk away with someone else. My heart cried, but I never let on. No, at that moment, I decided it was time to put my freshly-honed skills to work and follow him.

It wasn't easy. Napoleon frequently places that were often beyond my means or abilities. There were times when I could smile sweetly and get past the maître'd. However, other times I had to admit defeat and crouch outside, waiting for him and his date to leave. If I could get close enough, I would watch through a window.

Often they would be at the table and I could tell Napoleon was bored with his date's company. Then he would stand and offer her his hand, leading her to the dance floor. I'd watch her slip into his arms and would try to imagine how it would feel. To be that close, with Napoleon's hand in the small of my back, sending me intimate messages of his passion and desire. I would drink in and drown in his passion for me.

I would tail them back to her place. Napoleon rarely took anyone back to his apartment. Only then would I admit that the game was over for the night and return to my small studio apartment and drown my sorrows in something other than Napoleon's love and listened to mournful jazz records.

I lost all interest in eating or sleeping. People started commenting upon my appearance, but I didn't care. All that mattered was that I make Napoleon see in me what I saw in him. However, no matter how clever I was, or carefully I planned, something always seemed to go astray.

Then, finally one day, something snapped. I woke up on the couch where I'd passed out from the night before, tasted the salt of my tears and made up my mind. If Napoleon couldn't see what was right in front of his face, then it was up to me to make him see it.

It took me a while to formulate a plan and make sure everything was perfect. I couldn't take him back to my apartment. That would be the first place everyone would look. It couldn't be anywhere near HQ for there are eyes everywhere and always watching.

Instead, I decided it would be one morning, outside his apartment. No one would think it odd to see me there.

He came down the front stairs whistling happily and I stepped from behind a potted tree.

"Hello, Napoleon."

He stopped. I could tell I startled him, but it was only momentary and a smile replaced the surprise in his eyes.

"I wasn't expecting to bump into you here. How are you?"

"Not well." I looked around but no one was paying any attention to us. "Could we go somewhere and talk for a moment? Maybe I could give you a lift to work?"

He glanced at his watch and then nodded. "Of course. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I think so. I hope so." I hated sounding so cryptic for his expression was so troubled. Leading him to a car I'd borrowed for the day, we climbed in and I started to drive. It took a little artful dodging to keep the conversation general until we were within a stone's throw of my new place.

"What are we doing here?"

"I needed to show you this. Afterwards, it's straight to HQ, I swear."

That was good enough for him. He trusted me.

I led the way to the door and allowed him to step inside. I'd gone all out, decorating it with the most intimate and imaginative things possible.

He looked around and then back at me. "I don't understand."

"I love you." It seemed prudent to take the initiative now. "I'm drowning in you."

Then he made a mistake. He laughed. It was dismissive and callous. "You got it all wrong. Listen, it's normal for someone to fall in love with everything that we went through."

"I'm not wrong. I know my feelings." My world was red tinged. How could he make light of my love like that? After all we'd done and shared.

"I'm sure you think you are in love with me, but it's not possible. Even if I was so… inclined, which I'm not, there are policies and laws that prevent us from becoming involved. I can't."

"I'm not involved! I'm in love!" His words were like blows to my stomach.

"I'm not."

My world turn flame red and a fireball tore through my soul. I went for the gun I had stolen. I remember screaming and shooting and then feeling something hitting my shoulder. Everything went dark.

They tell me I had a complete nervous collapse and that I was expected to make a full recovery because of my youth. They could say nothing that I wanted to hear, but they were the ones in charge.

UNCLE's experts came to talk to me and tried to explain that what happened was a backlash of the mission that we'd been involved with. Waverly felt it had been a mistake for them to permit me to join actual agents on an assignment. After all, they were trained and I was just a kid.

They felt that THRUSH had done something to me when I was captured. I don't remember being held captive. I suspect Napoleon lied about it as a way of covering up for his foolish mistakes. I think he was right, though, about my not being in love with him. How could anyone be in love with such a man? I want nothing more to do with him. I just wanted to go back to school and be left alone.

They tell me that I am no longer a danger to anyone, so why am I still in a straitjacket and in a padded cell?

Napoleon, the monster, visited just once. I screamed and threw my dinner tray at him. His partner was with him and I realized then that Illya wasn't the idiot I thought he was. Back on the mission, it had been Napoleon who had failed him. Illya was caring and gentle. He would never treat me like a child.

He has such lovely eyes, blue like crystal clear water and I'm so thirsty…


End file.
